


Hitching a Ride

by Corycides



Category: The Tomorrow People (2013)
Genre: Multi, Tomorrow People Kink Meme
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-10-28
Updated: 2013-10-28
Packaged: 2017-12-30 19:08:33
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,666
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1022345
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Corycides/pseuds/Corycides
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Stephen is practising more with his powers, but sometimes he still gets into situations he can't handle.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Hitching a Ride

Every day, on his way out of the Ultras compound, Stephen waited for the door NOT to open, for the alarm to be raised and for Uncle Jedikiah to lightly pass sentence on him. So far it hadn’t happened. He stopped in the carpark and looked back, eyes tracking up the glassy walls to where Jedikiah stood. Watching him.

The dick waved, smirking that thin, mildly amused smile. Like he knew what Stephen was thinking, like he knew what Stephen was doing...and this just wasn’t the right day to spring the trap. 

It was harder to be the inside man than Stephen had thought. The lies, the people he hurt, the fear he was going to get terminally hurt eventually.

He lifted his hand in stiff acknowledgement to Jedikiah and trudged back to the subway. It was empty for once: no Ultras, no Tomorrow People and even the homeless man had left his usual position. Stephen’s only company for the ride was yesterday’s folded newspaper. He flicked through the dog-eared pages, habit-scanning for any patterns of ‘anomalous’ behaviour. Anything that would indicate a breakout. Although an hour was usually enough to be ‘too late’ where new supes were concerned. Never mind a day.

Mom was working late again - a harried message on the answering machine - and Luca was away with his football team. It was quiet without them there, without the empty murmur of presence humming through the house. He didn’t read their minds - God, the thought of what he’d find lurking in the folds of Luca’s subconscious - but there was always...background noise. It was kind of comforting, the mental equivalent of a shoulder bump.

He stripped down to his boxers and sprawled out on the bed. With his powers under control he didn’t need to strap himself in anymore. Now that he had ‘broken through’, become a Tomorrow Person in good standing, he didn’t need to do a lot of things anymore. 

Like use the phone if he wanted to catch up with someone.

Cara.

He tried to direct the thought, follow it along the bond he could almost - almost - touch. It was like chasing mist. Right up until he hit the wall. His mind jarred back into his body, focus splintering into bits and fragments and a distinct impression of cocky asshole.

John. He’d put up a block between Stephen and Cara. Stephen rubbed his forehead, fingertips pushing the ache back up into his hairline. Fine. His mouth tightened in determination. Stephen was supposed to be special, right? Maybe it was time to show John that wasn’t just hype. 

He reached out again, slower this time until his mind bumped against the shield. Darcy had shown him how to break through telepathic blocks, but this felt different. Her mental constructs were glass and steel, unyielding but understandable. This yielded to his touch, cold and dry, and shifted like black water when he pushed.

It was cold, darkness soaking down into his mental bones, but for some reason, Stephen couldn’t back down. He just kept imagining Jedikiah’s smirk in his mind, the unspoken contempt in John’s dismissal, and he dug his thoughts into the wall. It shredded, peeling away in wet, amorphous lumps that kept trying to suck back into the hole.

Stephen muscled his way through, ignoring the cold burn of it, and found himself….lost in a cold, echoing place. The hole snapped closed behind him and he panicked, groping around for some sense of his body or something, anything. There was nothing. Just emptiness and a sense of sealed off doors or cells that he couldn’t see.

It felt like Ultra. Like someone was observing him. Something.

He flailed, scrabbling madly in the emptiness for an anchor and found Cara. She was a small flower of warmth in that barren mindscape, slipping in through the smallest crack. John followed her out, twisting himself in and through her.

Stephen popped back out into his body, the feeling of hands and toes such a ridiculous relief he nearly cried. Was that John’s mind? No wonder the guy was such a jerk. Stephen would go madder than everyone had thought he was if he had to live there.

Someone kissed his belly - wet lips and stubble scraping over skin and...

Holy fuck. Stephen scrambled up out of bed, slapping at what he assumed was Luca taking weird-ass little brother WAY TOO DAMN FAR. Or he tried to. That was definitely what he meant to do. What actually happened was that he...giggled.

A really girly giggle.

Someone’s tongue joined the lips and stubble, dipping into his belly-button. Well, OK, Stephen was starting to suspect that wasn’t entirely his belly button. Rough fingers skimmed his - someone’s - thigh, exploring up from his knee to…

OK, Stephen had definitely never had one of those. Fingers brushed over wet flesh and inside, stretching him - her - it felt like him wide, something between an ache and pleasure cramping through his stomach. Hips lifted helplessly off the bed, fingers twisting in a scuff of hair.

‘God, John,’ Cara gasped. Except it felt like Stephen was saying, his lips moving and his tongue shaping the words. Except what he wanted to say wasn’t, ‘Don’t stop.’

'I wasn't planning too.'

Long, clever fingers pushed deeper and..wider, then slid out of them. A hot mouth and probing tongue replaced them, hands lifting knees up and apart to give him access. Stephen made a strangled noise as hot, sharp pleasure shot through his nerves as John sucked and licked at him, tongue lapping assiduously at what definitely, definitely felt like Stephen’s pussy.

Shit.

It was hard to tell who was whimpering. John was licking him out with the lazy confidence of familiarity: tongue there and lips there and the warm tickle of breath like silk on tender skin. Cara was definitely the one mustering up the ragged pleas to keep going. Stephen couldn’t have strung two vowels again, he didn’t think he could have moved even if he had control of the body.

John kissed his way up their body, lingering at ribs and breasts. Wow. Boobs were awesome. He’d always thought boobs were great from the other side, but the scrape of John’s teeth over a sensitised nipple was just...insane. Cara was whining and squirming.

Not touching though. Or looking. Stephen tried to focus on something other than John’s lips hot against his nipple, lips suckling tender skin into his mouth. Cool loops on his wrists, the tension point familiar from his nightly constraints, and looped over his eyes. He could feel it against his (not his, not) lashes when he blinked.

Blindfolds. Cuffs.

Apparently the Tomorrow People’s power couple were kinky. Good to know.

A sudden jolt of sensation made him buck, sweat slick on his skin and any notion of separation slipping away. Hands - not-hands - on his skin, inside him, filling him up until he had to scream. Slick emptiness, like air gone solid, squirming between his/her legs and tweaking her nipples.

'John!' Cara keened, voice shrill and frantic. Her fingers scraped and clawed at the bonds around her wrists, nails snagging in loosely wrapped silk. Her climax was like...being wrung out of pleasure, every nerve humming as she shuddered her and clung with precarious fingers to consciousness. 'John, please?'

'Are you sure?'

'Yes!'

Barely - by the skin of his teeth - hanging onto the idea of 'Stephen with a penis and a hard on for girls', Stephen wondered what more she wanted. It wasn't his first orgasm - not even his first in company - and he still felt like he was going to...

Son of a bitch. A cock nudged his lips, wet with come and hard, and Cara eagerly opened her mouth. Her tongue swiped along the satin smooth underside, flicking at the vein with delicate strokes, as her lips stretched around the shaft. Stephen tried to drag his focus away, to the itch of silk rubbing his wrists or the over-tender ache between his thighs. Like thinking about it had given John the idea, fingers shoved roughly inside him. 

He swore and jerked, but he could feel Cara's pleased purr. The yes, that's what I want direction she sent winging John's way. Really? Stephen could have done with something a bit more...vanilla. The cock was all the way in his mouth now, head nudging against the back of his throat, and Cara was making a low, throaty sound as she swallowed.

The weird thing was...it turned him on, in Cara's body, in Cara's head, this was hot. Being fucked so thoroughly, so physically, was just what they wanted. John's cock in their mouth, the heat and bulk and slight musk of him, and his hand rough and impatient inside her. She was possessed and it was good.

There was a small niggle of discontent, of something lacking, but it slid away before Stephen could pinpoint it. Which was a shame, because after this he wasn't entirely sure what the hell Cara would want with him otherwise. Maybe she secretly yearned for someone three degrees away from virginity to fumble at her hopefully and apologise when he came on her skirt.

Amusement flicked at the edges of Stephen's mind and he flinched. Did they know he was here? What the hell, was this some sort of game?

Before his anger could catch hold he was flipped over, bonds somehow not tangling, and hands caught at his hips. Hands spread his ass cheeks open and John licked at him, wet tongue pushing at him.

'No,' Cara said. 'I don't want do that yet, John.'

'Ok,' John said equably. 

He shifted, lifting Stephen's hips, and thrust into him. Cara came a second time, shuddering her way through the knots of hard pleasure, as John slammed into her with hard, unforgiving strokes. His fingers dig bruises into her hips and he fucked her so hard she had to grab at the headboard.

The thought that she would hurt tomorrow curled smugly through their shared mind. She thrust back into him, eager for him to penetrate her deeper, harder. Caught in a knot of unfamiliar sensation and the hot delirium of endorphins, Stephen just let himself fall into her want.

They fucked twice more in the bed, until sticky and satiated Cara finally muttered enough. She was lowered gently back onto the bed. Oh great, Stephen thought hazily, they hadn't just out-screwed porn stars they had done it mid-air. Cara stretched out on the bed, waiting patiently as she silk unlooped from around her wrists. She reached up and pulled her blindfold down, letting it dangle around her neck like a scarf. 

Stephen got a glimpse of high, sweat-sheeted breasts and wet, dark curls between her thighs as she look down the bed. He couldn't stop from looking, but he tried not to pay attention. That sad, unsettled little feeling niggled at him again as she looked at John.

'I feel guilty that you don't get off,' she said.

John sat in a chair at the end of the bed, fully dressed. His shirt collar was tugged loose and his eyes were feverish bright, but he was fully dressed and composed otherwise. He scuffed his hand through his hair and smiled at Cara,

'I did. Twice,' he said, smiling crookedly.

'Really,' Cara said. She rubbed a hand down her sweaty body, shivering as her nerves pinged happily. 'Physically.'

John's face closed off and he stood up. 'This is better,' he said. 'You get everything you want, we both do.'

Cara sighed, but didn't argue. Apparently feeling that settled things, John grinned and asked if she wanted sushi. Stephen stayed stuck while Cara got dressed, pulling her clothes on over the smell of sex. It was embarrassing, but weirdly unerotic. He had spent hours imagining what Cara's skin would feel like, how her breasts would feel in his hands. It turned out that feeling them through her hands as she adjusted them in her bra was not particularly noteworthy. 

Just when Stephen was starting to resign himself to the idea of being a mute hitchhiker for the rest of his life, they teleported out. The ripple of energy shucked Stephen out of Cara like a an oyster from a shell. He spun, unmoored and lost, through the city's mindscape, his 'body' attenuating with every passing thought he bumped into.

Flapping around in a desperate attempt to right himself, the faux-gravity of his bond to his body lost, Stephen screamed for help. He didn't even care if it was a smirking, psychically sated John who plucked him up, although when no one answered he did wonder if this was the supe's way of getting rid of him.

Ironically, they never heard him.

It was Darcy's cool, 'What are you bleating about, Jameson?' that hooked him in. A cool, practically inclined mind patched his shredded form back together.

'It isn't your soul or anything, just energy,' she said dryly he fretted. 'You won't wake up tomorrow and forget how to use the toilet. It will just feel like the flu.'

She dragged him along like a deflated dinghy, and once he was close enough his neglected body dragged him back down. He hoped she didn't follow. Apparently all his mental flailing had still been connected, somewhat, to his body. He was lying on the floor of his bedroom, the sheet tangled around him and body parts he didn't even have aching. 

Peeling the sheet off, come dried on his stomach and thighs, he limped into the bathroom and showered himself off. He leaned agains the tiles, letting the high-pressure water batter his back, and tried to work out how he felt. It felt like he should feel, you know, violated or something. He didn't though.

I mean, for one thing he had been the voyeur in the room. It wasn't like he had a lot of ground to stand on there. 'I broke into your private room, hid in your wardrobe and was really, really disgusted to see you having what looked like great sex.' Didn't sound great did it. Besides, it hadn't felt wrong while he was doing it. A bit odd now to think he knew what John's cock tasted like (or what Cara thought it tasted like? Or John thought she'd think it tasted like) but not like he wanted to take a Silkwood shower.

Was he gay, or bi? Or was it like Cara had said, 'Complicated'. Just one of those weird supe things that no one had told him about,.

*you can teleport out of your pants but not into them.

*yes, girls think about sex nearly as much as you do if that freaks you out don't read Astrid's mind and find out she fancies Luca a little bit.

* yeah, we all regularly hitch rides in each others bodies for a bonding mind-orgy. Just wipe up before you leave. Didn't Russell mention it?

Not like he could ask anyone though. What if it was huge Tomorrow Person taboo and they'd think he was the telepathic equivalent of Andy Sirkis - who'd been caught jerking off in the gym teachers shoe?

 

Scrubbed clean, Stephen shuffled back to bed. He balled up the sheet and shoved it in the hamper. Thank God, mom had decided him and Luca needed to be domesticated and clean up after themselves. Between threesomes with his neighbours and hanging out with creepy Uncle Jedikiah, Stephen did not need to show off the sheet of shame as well.

He crawled into bed and had very...weird...dreams. Weird enough he needed to wash two sheets in the morning.

Yet when he popped gingerly into the subway station, no one gave him a second look. John grunted at him unenthusiastically and Cara gave him a hug. It was...disturbing which of the two made his dick twitch, but that was it. In which case, maybe it was best to keep the whole thing to himself.


End file.
